Pit Board – A board used by the crew to inform drivers of lap times, lap until pit, and other information.
Taking care of Axel and Arie for a few weeks after Sway’s C-section was a lot of fucking work. I never realized how much energy those two had until I was alone with them. It wasn’t so bad when I just had one, but both of them together—I couldn’t understand how in the hell Sway did this every day.
It was exhausting, and I could completely understand why some animals ate their young.
Arie was a handful. I could handle Axel because we thought the same way. I knew what I wanted and, in turn, I understood him.
Arie was something else entirely.
One particular trip to the grocery store after we arrived home from the hospital guaranteed I’d never take her again. Hating grocery stores in general, this didn’t help matters.
There I was, picking out some fruit when a sales associate tapped me on the shoulder.
“Um, sir?”
I turned around to see a woman pointing at Arie, who was stark naked and looking up at us with curiosity. Emerald green eyes outlined by thick black lashes blinked as though she had no idea there was anything wrong with this situation.
Seeing as she was only two, this could have been worse, but what made me laugh was the way her diaper had been tossed in the apple bin and her clothes were strategically and neatly hung on the bananas.
“Can you please keep your daughter clothed?” she asked and then fished the diaper out of the apples for me.
I just laughed. What else was I supposed to do?
It wasn’t like she knew any better.
I laughed, mostly because I had no idea what else to do. Sway had left me lists. An actual fucking list on what it was that I was supposed to do, but taking clothes off in a grocery store wasn’t on the list.
When I got home Arie was clothed again and I asked Sway if she did this often.
Sway laughed as she burped Casten. “Yeah, all the time,” she told me like it was no big thing. “I once had to duct tape her diaper on.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I stood there as Arie once again stripped.
“No problem,” she giggled. “What’s with all the apples?”
“They made me buy them.”
Tommy, who frequently stayed at our house, came into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the counter. The apples I intended on throwing away.
He took a seat at the kitchen island and ate the apple. “Your kid’s naked again,” he said, commenting on the obvious as Arie streaked through the kitchen on her way to the backyard.
After a moment, he noticed us staring at him and trying like hell to contain our giggles.
Sway leaned into my shoulder. “Should we tell him?”
Tipping my head toward hers, I chuckled. “I don’t think it would even make a difference to him.”
“What is your problem?” Tommy asked, finishing his apple.
“Nothing,” we both replied, snickering.
“You guys are so strange,” he said, walking into the family room to play a video game with Axel.
Sway got up and headed for the apples. She opened the door to the trash bin, and I sprung up to stop her.
“Don’t do that. We have to at least make a pie for Spencer with them.”
“Oh, good point,” she grinned and put them into a large bowl away from the rest of the fruit on the counter.
LATER THAT NIGHT, I decided to take my family out to eat since Sway was still recovering and most of my energy was spent on the kids that afternoon and neither of us felt like cooking.
So, there we were at the local Outback and Arie tossed her juice cup on the floor. Naturally, Sway bent under the table to get it.
Axel was busy playing with his food, and Arie thought she’d help Sway out by saying “There, look there!” at the top of her lungs every few seconds. As if Sway didn’t know it was under there.
I hated going to restaurants with the kids because it was like we spent more time making sure they weren’t being annoying to others, begging them to eat, picking up shit they threw, telling them to stop staring at people, and then trying to actually eat our own meals. It was a nightmare.
Tonight wasn’t any different.
While Sway was down there I looked around the room when a group of frat boys started cheering at what they thought was my wife giving me a little micro polishing under the table.
I would have never allowed this with kids present, but I decided, against my better judgment, to pretend a little.
I nodded a little arrogantly, provoking them.
“Oh, there it is,” Sway said, reaching for the cup that was now by my foot.
Trying to keep this up a little longer, I threw my head forward as though I really was enjoying it and kicked the cup away.
“Don’t kick it, asshole.”
I grinned again and the group of guys high-fived each other.
Sway eventually got the cup, got back in her chair, and glared at me. “Jerk.”
Axel snorted and looked at me with a smile. “You made Mama mad.”
“Nothin’ new, little man,” I said, taking a big bite of my steak and then chewing slowly before I winked at Sway.
She shook her head and then excused herself to feed Casten in the bathroom. She returned at the worst time when the group of frat boys came by.
“Man, you are our hero!”
I smiled and nodded but gestured toward Axel and Arie looking up at them curiously.
“Shh,” I gestured to my little spaz kids and their curious eyes. “My kids are here.”
Clearly what I did wasn’t appropriate, but it was funny.
A few other guests had looked in our direction at the commotion the guys were making.
“What was that about?” Sway kicked me under the table when a woman muttered something about what I did being completely inappropriate.
“I have no idea,” I said and finished eating my steak that Axel had spilled his milk on. I wouldn’t have eaten it at that point, but I couldn’t let on to Sway what I had done.
My wife was not stupid by any means and picked up on it.
“Why, you dirty man,” her head cocked to the side with suspicion. “With our kids present!” She smiled despite her bitter tone.
I looked around, ashamed and amused, and then leaned forward and motioned for her to come closer with my finger. She did and I winked.
“So many judging looks coming your way.”
Her mouth twitched into a smile, one she didn’t want to reveal.
She kicked me again, but I did get some micro polishing that night after the kids went to bed. She loved me and couldn’t stay mad.
I was out on the balcony outside our master bedroom lying in a lounge chair when Sway came out after putting Casten down for the night.
Slipping outside, she stubbed her toe on the edge of the railing just as she always did when she came out here. “Son of a bitch!” she cursed. “We need to move this.”
“We can’t. It’s a railing.”
She knelt beside me and then lowered herself on my lap, her legs falling to the sides leaving her crankcase directly in line with my camshaft that was very eager to have some attention.
Removing my shirt, her hands lingered over the ridge of each muscle as though she wanted to remember the feeling and texture. Looking down at me, her left hand rose to cup my face, bringing my lips to hers. With a need I couldn’t explain, I gasped at the feeling of being covered in her skin.
Taking in a deep breath, I folded my arms behind my head.
“That was not a very nice thing you did at the restaurant ...” she whispered, moving down my body as she removed my jeans enough to get to what she needed.
I couldn’t speak when she drew me into her mouth. So warm. So soft. I missed it so much.
“Jesus, Sway, I want to fuck you so bad,” I breathed into the night air.
The subtle waves of the lake created a light slapping at the dock. The clouds from the day had rolled apart, highlighting the lake with glistening silver streaks.
My focus wasn’t on the lake. It couldn’t be with this beauty sliding down my body; giving me pleasure in ways I’d never imagined feeling for the rest of my life. Thoroughly determined, her hands reached around my hips to draw me deeper into her mouth, her movements speeding as though she couldn’t get enough of me. It was just the opposite. I couldn’t get enough of her.
My hands shot to her hair trying to tug her up when I felt the familiar stir in the pit of my stomach.
“Honey, you should move if—”
Just as she always did, she pushed my hands away, but she did slow her motions. She wasn’t done with me, and that just excited me even more.
“It’s like you know exactly what to do,” I stroked the side of her face tenderly.
She looked up but kept me inside her mouth, her eyes soft, and I watched carefully as I slid in and out of her full lips, hypnotized by her unreserved love for me.
My breathing turned erratic as I tried to fight the feeling. Regardless that she slowed her moves, the way she was looking at me, and the way I was sliding in and out of her mouth, I was giving in to the hold she had on me. Flashes of our past passionate lovemaking, on this very deck, fluttered behind my closed eyelids when my head fell back, my body clenched, and I knew I couldn’t hold off.
Sway crawled back up my body, and her lips found mine as my head lulled to the side.
“I hope it was good as you pretended it to be in the restaurant.”
Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. It was funny.”
She removed herself from the lounge chair, grabbing her midsection as she did so in.
“You okay?”
Sway winced and righted herself into a standing position. “Yeah, just sore.” I stood beside her, buttoning my jeans when she poked at my chest. “You shouldn’t do that with the kids present. What if someone would have made a big deal out of it? You wouldn’t want your sponsor finding out your wife was micro polishing with kids present, would you?”
Now that she put that spin on it, no, I wouldn’t. It was in good fun and just a joke to rouse a few teenagers, but in turn, I didn’t think of how that looked to the outside. Here I was, a NASCAR driver, and I’d pretended my wife was on her knees under the table with my three kids present. Not smart.
I kissed her forehead. “You always know what to do.”
Sway laughed, slipping into our bed. She patted my side. “I should know what to do. I write the pit board.”
I laughed. “You write the pit board, eh?”
“Yep. I know when you need your next pit stop.” I laid down next to her after removing my clothes. “I know what adjustments you need on your next stop. I know how much fuel to give you and the right air pressure adjustments. I know you.” Her index finger touched my nose.
Smiling that she was right, my eyes closed. “That you do, honey.”
Glancing around at the overflowing shopping cart, I knew who was to blame for this. Having only come for coals for the barbeque, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be leaving with just coals.
“Axel Riley, get your ass over here right now.”
The mother next to me gasped at my crudeness.
“Sorry.”
I was thankful all the kids weren’t with me at the moment. It never failed. When I had them all together the little shits liked to scurry in different directions as I would try to get them in line or try to keep from dropping everything in my hands. It was like they knew I wasn’t an octopus and could sense the fear any time I picked something up and had no free hands.
Axel came tearing around the corner with an arm full of chips and marshmallows. Somehow, though I’m not sure how, he found room in the cart. “I got what I need. We can go now.”
“Smartass,” he snorted and smiled. “Why do you need all this?”
He held out his hand with the same smirk Jameson gives. Without thinking, I pulled out a dollar and gave it to him. This no cursing thing was making my kids’ millionaires.
“Thanks, Mama,” his eyes focused on the marshmallows. “Lane and me... we gonna have a s’more.”
Anything Lane wanted to do, Axel wanted to do. Anything Lane and Axel did, Noah, Charlie, and Cole copied. It was an endless cycle, and soon Casten would be involved.
“S’mores, eh?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
A few hours later, we were heading back to the campground with our s’mores, chips, and whatever else Axel stuck in that damn cart.
Jameson laughed when he walked up to the Expedition as Axel and I tried to carry the bags. “I thought you were getting coals?”
“I did.” I slapped the bag with my free hand, trying to conceal my own smile. He’d taken Axel to the store before and knew the drill very well.
He grinned and leaned against the back of the car, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I see that,” he gestured toward the bags. “I was referring to all that.”
“Um....”
He pulled me firmly against his chest. “Admit it, honey, they own you.”
“If I avoid it... it doesn’t exist,” untangling myself from him, I glared.
Still leaning against the side of the car, his head tilted to the side as his hand ran down his jaw.
He winked. “So... you wearing a bikini under that dress?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I snarked as I strode past. “Don’t forget the bags.”
“Tease!” he yelled after me.
Walking toward the lake, I heard the laughter of the kids playing in the water, the crackle of campfires nearby and the crisp pop of beer opening. It was the sound of camping.
Why did it always feel like life was passing you by in a blur?
Before you knew it, you were a mother of three, your husband was worshiped by women, and maybe even men, all of the world, and you didn’t know where all the time went.
All I really knew was that when we had the opportunity to be a family, we were.
After the July 2008 race in Chicago, Jameson had a bye week before the race in Indy. Against our better judgment, we took all the kids camping—tent camping to be exact.
Aiden convinced all of us to go camping at Lake Guntersville State Park where he spent most of his time growing up. We had so many people with us that we had to rent out most of the park.
Let me give you an idea of how many people we had. So starting with us was me, Jameson, Axel, Arie, and Casten.
Six-month-old Casten wasn’t exactly running around. He was constantly attached to the foodbags or eyeing his older brother and laughing.
Spencer and Alley were here with Lane, who had just turned eight. Lexi and Cole were also here, but instead of running around after the motorized vehicles like the older boys were, they were playing in the shallow parts of the water.
Then we had the terrible toddlers, Aiden and Emma’s hellions, Charlie and Noah. Not as bad as the Lucifer twins but were definitely giving them a run for the title of the worst children ever. It must be something with twin boys. I could only assume that with age, they’d be even worse.
Being only three-and-a-half, they still had time.
Speaking of the Lucifer twins, they were here, too, but seemingly well-behaved for the most part. They’d just turned eleven, and it appeared Van kept them in line.
Justin, Ami, their daughter, Lily, and their new little one-year-old boy, Kale, were with us, as well.
Then we had the adults without kids: Tommy and his girlfriend, Melissa, (and yes, the Melissa who represents Simplex), Tyler, and Cody. Ryder showed up with a new girl on his arm and Tate, his wife, Eva, and their son, Jake, came out. Bobby, Paul, Andy, and even Colin Shuman came out for a night.
With Jimi and Nancy, too, it seemed we had everyone here.
With this many people, it made for some interesting times.
I didn’t know why we went camping. It wasn’t like we have ever had a good time doing it. Most of our time camping was spent running around after the kids and remembering all the past bad times we’d had camping.
Unlike our brush of death before, there were no cougars in the area, but there were seven little boys under ten years old and two who had just turned eleven to annoy us.
I couldn’t count the number of times we told those boys, “Stop throwing rocks and put that goddamn stick down!” or “Get the goddamn stick out of the fire!” and “Give me the goddamn stick!”
Then there were the moments after cooking the s’mores that we said, “The marshmallow is on fire, get it out of the fire, don’t throw the marshmallow at your sister, and give me the goddamn marshmallows!”
It was hell. I couldn’t understand why parents would willingly put themselves through this regularly. I sure as hell wasn’t going to. I loved my kids dearly even if they threw rocks at me, spit on me, or punched me in the throat when they were throwing a fit, but when we were outdoors, it was worse.
Axel, my beautiful little four-year-old son, was being a little shit. He was upset that we didn’t bring his go-kart or his quarter midget so he was on his worst behavior.
Jameson had to tell him on more than one occasion that he’d never race again if he didn’t straighten up, but he insisted on being a complete turd. We’d only been there five minutes when Jameson had to discipline him for throwing rocks at Logan. Not that I blamed him, but still, Logan and Axel needed to learn they couldn’t just do whatever they wanted.
Jameson and I wanted him to have some balance and time away from racing from time-to-time, but just like Jameson, he wasn’t having it.
Instead, he was buzzing around on Lane’s dirt bike.
Lane headed in the opposite direction of the Riley boys and racing, preferring two wheels to four.
Jameson may have had something to do with this as he was constantly riding his dirt bikes around our property in Mooresville. Lane soon picked up on it. Right after he turned six, Spencer bought him one for his birthday, and he’s been riding ever since.
So the kids stuck sticks in the fire, rode dirt bikes, swam in the lake, and were just kids.
The adults drank. It was the only way to remain sane.
Even though there didn’t appear to be any cougars or bears, the bugs were another story. They were obnoxious. There were small ones, big ones, colorful ones, some the size of fucking birds, noisy ones... I feared for my skin and soon for my sanity when the itching began. I felt sorry for addicts who went through withdrawals and wondered how in the world they didn’t take a grinder to their skin.
If I could have found one, I would have.
I must have lathered up with an entire bottle of calamine lotion while Jameson washed his skin obsessively like he would actually wash away the bites. It didn’t work, and in the end, we itched.
“I don’t like this,” Jameson said conversationally, slapping away a bird-sized mosquito.
“Me either.” I took a drink of my beer, peering down at my speckled, itchy skin. “There are so many bugs.”
“It’s Alabama. What did you expect?”
“So?”
“That’s all this state has, besides peaches, is bugs.”
“Peaches are from Georgia.”
“Sway,” his eyebrow arched. “They have peaches everywhere.”
“I know that. I’m just saying that the term peaches goes with Georgia.” I scratched my forehead. “Not Alabama. Just like apples go with Washington and oranges go with Florida.”
“Does it really fucking matter?”
“Yes.”
He snorted and stood up. With a stretch, his back arched, and he yawned, running his hand through his hair and then down his jaw. Eyeing the lake, he motioned with his head toward the direction of the lake. “I’m going for a swim.”
Alley started laughing beside me while lathering up Lexi with sun block.
“I can’t believe Aiden thought this would be fun,” she said only to me.
Emma was all about camping and couldn’t stop organizing and making our campsite homey, so God forbid we bad mouth the trip in front of her.
I never got up from my little throne next to the campfire. Hoping maybe the bugs would leave me alone, I realized by not moving, I attracted them like a fluorescent light.
Later that night, after dinner, Spencer and Aiden took all the kids to go watch fireworks and that left Jameson and I alone.
You can imagine how we made use of the time.
“You wanna get naked?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“You know... sometimes women like romance.”
“Oh—sorry,” he moved to sit next to me, the rusty highlights in his hair sparkling from the light of the fire. It was a sweet gesture when his hand rose to cup my cheek and leaned in to kiss my forehead. “Honey, please get naked with me?”
“You’re such a knob.”
A few minutes later, we were both naked inside our tent.
“Can you scratch my ankle?”
“Yeah—sure.” I scratched his ankle.
“Thanks,” he grunted, pushing me forward to grasp my ass with his hand. I liked it, a lot.
To me, there’s nothing better than camping in the middle of nowhere and having hot, dirty sex with your dirty heathen while the kids are occupied.
Speaking of dirty, dirt was everywhere in the tent. And, in Alabama, the dirt was more like clay and it stuck to you. I was itchy, and the dirt kind of felt nice chafing against my skin.
“Can you scratch my back since you’re back there?”
“Yeah—where?”
“By my ass... oh, yeah... right there.” His movements didn’t stop either, and I wasn’t really sure what felt better, the scratching or his movements, so I moaned. “Oh, yes!”
“You like that?” he asked with a hint of arrogance. “Fuck yeah, you do.”
“Yes!”
Suddenly he stopped. “Wait, what are you liking more—the scratching or the sex?”
How the fuck did I answer this one? They both felt good, but the combination of the two was what was really good.
“Both,” I squeaked.
I heard him sigh and fall back on the ground.
“This isn’t working,” he started itching his arms like a junkie.
I scrambled on top of him to straddle his hips. “Yes, it is working.”
“No, it’s not. We itch, and we look like we have chickenpox. You know how much I hate stuff on my skin and look at it!” His eyes closed. “I want to go home.”
“So you don’t want to ...” I swiveled my hips once, his back arched as his hands stopped itching and flew to my hips.
No more words were spoken as the dirty heathen took over. It was one of those times when you didn’t say anything because you just had a mission: getting done before the kids came back.
By the time we were done, we were sweating, covered in red clay and a few more bug bites.
“Ow!” Jameson yelled, rubbing his leg. “Something bit me!”
I grinned.
“Was it a cougar?” I started laughing uncontrollably. “Or maybe it was a shark.”
Holding his calf, he scowled. “No!”
“Come here.” I motioned for him to lie against my chest, still laughing. “Let the mama wizard see.”
He was hesitant, but any chance at cuddling the funbags was appealing to the dirty heathen, so he did. Examining his calf, above his shark bite, there was a raised blotchy patch.
“Oh, you poor thing,” I cooed, running my fingers through his hair. “Are you going to be okay?” Despite my calmed tone, I was still laughing.
“Stop laughing.” He pulled back to glare. “This is not funny. What if I was bit by a deadly spider?”
“Well, then—I will apologize when you die.”
He side-eyed me. “Nice.”
It wasn’t long and the kids returned, all of them popping off their rev limiters as Jameson would put it.
After that, it was the battle of getting the little shits to bed and to stay in bed. It was almost like they smelled the fresh air, and once it hit their lungs, they acted like fucking brats.
It took Jameson, me, and Spencer just to get Axel into bed, and finally Nancy had to step in.
Arie was easy. She went out like a light when Jimi captured her in his arms.
Casten stayed awake for a while, eyeing everyone curiously, but it seemed okay since he was a baby and couldn’t tell anyone how ridiculous his parents acted when the kids went to bed.
He did, however, pass out about the time Tommy, who was suffering from allergies and took to drinking Benadryl, plopped down in a camping chair next to Jameson and started telling him about how he thought he needed a raise.
Tommy was joking because Jameson gave willingly to everyone on his team, whether it was the Cup team or sprint cars.
Every year, Ford handed Jameson a brand new truck of his choice. And every year, he then handed that truck over to one of his boys. He always went all out on Christmas and birthdays for anyone on his teams. Most thought he was an asshole, but he knew everyone’s birthday on his team and surprised them every year with something most could never dream of affording.
Why did he do that? Because to him, he wouldn’t have any of the luxuries he had now if it wasn’t for them.
Jameson, concerned that his only mechanic on his sprint car team was drinking Benadryl as though it was a juice box, looked at Jimi, who was still holding Arie, for help.
Jimi shrugged when Jameson tried to take the bottle from him and gave us the same look he’d given Nancy when she made him sit through the Sex in the City movie.
“He’s drinking Benadryl through a straw,” Jimi reminded us. “I guarantee you that’s the least of your problems tonight.”
And, my God, was he right. That night was similar to the old pit lizard days. Thank God there wasn’t a tattoo parlor nearby, although we did have a branding torch courtesy of Spencer.
It started when Spencer said, “I bet you can’t swim across this lake.”
You never said that to these boys and expected them not to react. Ever.
Jimi stood, shifting Arie to his other arm and motioned around. “The shit is about to hit the fan, and I’m tired. No one kill themselves tonight. It’s supposed to be relaxing and the nearest hospital is miles away.” He looked at Tommy and Spencer. “You two stay away from my fucking tent tonight.”
Jimi and Nancy put Arie in our tent and then snuck off to theirs.
So what did happen when the parents went to bed?
Oh God. Where did I even begin?
Spencer started in with the ‘I bet you can’t do that’ shit and that resulted in Jameson, Justin, Tommy, and Aiden swimming across the lake. About one minute into it, Justin confessed he couldn’t swim very well and ended up coming back when he couldn’t touch anymore.
That left Jameson, Tommy, and Aiden battling it out in their own version of aquatic survivor. I was amazed someone didn’t drown out there with the way they were dunking each other.
Halfway across the lake, they gave up and decided drinking beer was more entertaining than drowning. It also had something to do with Justin reminding them there were snakes in the lake.
Spencer—convinced they had no balls for not completing his stupid ‘I bet you can’t do that’ task—threw insults at them all night.
Tommy, wanting to one-up Spencer, decided he was going to fill water balloons with piss.
The worst part, my twenty-eight-year-old husband joined him.
Here was the thing, though, and what these dumb shits never considered—Spencer had pulled off more pranks than all of them put together. He knew when he was about to be pranked and usually knew how.
So there Jameson and Tommy were drinking one beer right after another and peeing in the balloons. Around one that morning they had enough for their war against Spencer.
Only problem was Spencer caught onto them and decided he was going to one up them and sprayed them with WD-40. If you’d never seen what this did to balloons, it was entertaining. The chemicals ate through the balloon in about five seconds.
Spencer, his intelligence soaring that night, enlisted Logan, who refused to go to sleep, into sitting behind Jameson and Tommy and spraying the balloons with WD-40 before they launched them at Spencer. Needless to say they exploded mid-air all over them.
“Abort mission!” Tommy hollered in complete horror, soaked with his own urine. He looked at Jameson. “I’d be okay if it was my own piss. I do that at least once a month, but yours …” He shivered. “I can’t handle that. I can’t.”
Jameson, who was hiding behind me for cover, looked around, tipped his baseball cap up and grinned. “Oh, Tommy, it’s just my urine. I’m clean.”
Tommy, who had dodged under a canvas camping chair, glared and ran after him.
“C’mere asshole, I’m gonna piss on you and see how you like it!”
Jameson shot out into the woods to avoid him with Tommy following.
After making sure the kids were still sleeping, I sat down next to Ami.
“I have bets that one of them ends the night with a broken bone or stitches.”
“For sure,” Ami cracked another beer and handed me one. I took it since I’d pumped enough for Casten the last few days, and I figured I could have one free night.
We could hear the boys in the distance all yelling obscenities at each other; Jameson’s laughter, Spencer’s laughter, and then, finally, Justin and Tommy squealing like little girls quickly followed by Jameson and Spencer screaming.
Once I started drinking that night, I couldn’t tell you with accuracy what actually happened, but it was one of those nights I didn’t care. It was nice to just be a kid again.
Any time once of us thought we’d woken up the kids, we started giggling like a bunch of girls at a slumber party and saying “shhhh” on repeat.
Around four, we were still going strong when we heard movement near the tents. Jameson practically jumped onto my lap.
“Do you think it’s a cougar?” he asked, pulling his baseball cap down to hide his panicked expression from the others.
“No,” I pushed him off. “And, if it was, I’d feed you to him.”
He laughed, remembering those words from our honeymoon. Everyone else looked at us curiously. Apparently, to Jameson and me, it was the funniest thing we’d ever said to each other, and we both laughed uncontrollably. It was probably the alcohol.
All our laughing woke up Jimi.
Emerging with a grunt from his tent, Jimi looked around the campsite and shook his head with a smirk. His hand rose to scratch the top of his head. “I don’t even want to know how this happened.”
Tommy, who’d passed out by the fire, groaned and sat up. After looking around for a moment, he lay back down and asked, “Is the room still spinning?”
Jimi kicked a few bottles out of the way and made his way back to his tent muttering something about his grandkids being more mature than their parents.
Ryder stood, brushing aside the crumbs of the two bags of chips he’d eaten and walked over to Tommy and looked closer at his face.
He stared at him for a moment before turning to all of us. “His eyebrows are gone!”
“No shit?” Justin perked up. “They just grew back from the incident at Dog Hollow.”
“Yep,” Ryder looked closer. “They’re gone.”
“Fuck yeah,” Jameson pumped his fists in there air. “He deserves that.”
Ami felt the need to remind Jameson that Tommy was the one who was peed on tonight.
“That’s not really the point,” Jameson, said reaching for another beer and a bag of barbeque chips.
“Not the point, my ass. She made a perfectly good point,” I reminded him, only to have Jameson glare.
He stopped when I took his hand and rested it on my bare knee.
“Now, let’s go see about a tree I saw out there,” I winked at him just to get my point across.
“A tree? Why in the world would you want to see a tree?” Spencer asked and then caught on. “Oh, right.”
Alley quirked an eyebrow at her husband. “Sometimes I wonder how you get through the day.”
“That’s rude,” Spencer actually looked offended. “I’m perfectly capable of getting through the day.”
“Yeah.” Alley rolled her eyes when Jameson and I stood, she added, “Sure.”
On the way into the woods, I asked him if he thought we were getting too old for this sort of thing.
When he didn’t respond, I turned to see him leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest.
I was drunk, but despite this, I took a moment to look over my husband. His hair was crazy, gray t-shirt soaked with the beer Ryder dumped on him earlier, and his brown cargo shorts were weathered and worn from being his favorite pair for the last two years.
My eyes went lower to see that he wasn’t wearing any shoes.
I laughed. “Where are your shoes?”
He shrugged and offered that smirk I loved so much.
Slowly, he pushed himself from the tree and came to stand within inches of me. His eyes traveled south again and landed on my shorts as he fumbled for a moment with the button. He was trying to remain sexy about this, but he was so drunk that every time he tried to keep a sexy mysterious look to him he’d smile and we’d both start laughing.
Holding back his laughter, he began to drag my panties slowly down my legs.
Pinned against the tree by his hips, I was determined to make this last longer than I knew it would. Pushing back against him, my hands found his shorts. My fingers got the button undone when I felt his stare again. He watched each movement as I slowly let the camshaft out.
He smiled. I smiled.
“He’s missed you,” he breathed, bringing my lips back to his.
Kissing Jameson was like ice cream for me on a hot summer day, hell, any day. I couldn’t get enough of him … or ice cream.
Jameson seemed frustrated he couldn’t get my shirt off fast enough so I, once again, pushed him back to assist with the pit stop.
Helping him out, I pulled my shirt over my head, instantly regretting the cool night air as it provided quite the reaction to the funbags. It had been a while since they’d been out to play after having kids. So many times I had to keep my bra on just because it wasn’t worth the effort of having to constantly tell Jameson to stop trying to get his mouth around them.
I looked up at Jameson watching. He only stared, his laughter suppressed, with silent words, and it only made me want to scream. I wanted to know what he was thinking and to hear him say dirty engine words to me, but no, he just stared with that smirk and warm eyes that spoke for him.
All laughter aside, he wanted me.
He reached out tentatively and touched the side of my face, holding my jaw in the palm of his hand. Moving closer, his lips rested behind my ear and he whispered, “Are you gonna fuck me or just stand there and stare?”
I attacked him like a cougar, and he couldn’t stop laughing at me. We ended up somewhere against a tree and then the ground and then back to the tree. We were both laughing, clinging to each other, and making the best of our time alone even though our friends and family were making animal sounds not more than thirty feet away.
My legs wrapped around his waist using his shoulders as leverage. He moved me the way he wanted.
While I enjoyed this, the only problem was that, as with Dayton Peak and the pit lizard days, my ass was scraping against the grain of the bark and giving me splinters. I wasn’t sure if my cries of pleasure were from the bark scratching all my bug bites or from Jameson. Either way, it was kind of nice.
“Fuck, honey,” Jameson growled and pushed me harder against the tree.
His movements sped, as did his hips, and we were lost in a world of scratching bug bites, sweaty bodies, breathy words, hurried touches, and laughs.
Any time I was with Jameson, it was a flurry of emotions both emotional and physical swirling inside me. He had the power to stir up and turn wild those very same feelings whenever he felt like it. I hated that he could do that to me, but I took pride that I could do that same to him if needed.
Believe me, not every time you had sex with your husband was it going to be this way. Sometimes it was quick and dirty, other times it was slow and sensual, and then there were the times when you just didn’t mix. Something felt off, maybe it was you, maybe it was him, but guess what? That was marriage.
But this time, against the tree, I briefly thought to myself, “Well, this is the second time in your life you’ve been fucked against a tree,” and then I thought, “Hot damn, this is the second time I’m being fucked against a tree.”
Focusing on the moment, my dirty heathen pressed his forehead to mine, one hand wrapped around my right thigh and the other holding onto a branch above my head. My eyes darted to his arm beside my head watching the way the thick muscles flexed as his hips moved. My eyes traveled over his shoulder and then to his face and the way his brow knitted together in concentration, the way his lips parted slightly as he let out soft grunts of pleasure. His eyes were closed, but when I breathed his name, he opened them for me just about the time we fell.
I don’t mean fell into our rev limit either. I mean actually fell.
“Son of a bitch!” Jameson shouted, trying to break our fall as his knee slammed into a log. “Get over here.” Jameson roughly grabbed me by my hips and placed me on all fours.
On the ground.
In the woods.
Hot.
Fucking.
Damn.
I completely lost it and found my rev limit and then some.
I wasn’t sure what it was that made it so hot and sent my temps rising, but I’d like to think it was because of the way he manhandled me and shoved me on all fours to satisfy his need.
“That’s right,” Jameson said in a rush of winded words and a cocky nod when I finished moaning and turned to look at him.
He looked so hot with chips of wood in his hair, polished body from the humidity and working up fast time.
Removing myself from him, I threw his shirt at him. “Someday you’ll need your own country to house that head of yours.”
I left him sitting there in the woods and began to make my way back to camp when I heard Tommy yell, “Hey look, it’s a cougar.”
I knew he was joking, but I’d never seen Jameson run so fast. He flew past me and was standing by the fire before I’d barely taken two steps.
“Hey, asshole, thanks for caring about your wife!” I shouted at him and then tripped over a log and face planted.
When I made it back to the fire Jameson was wrestling with Tommy and a bottle of pink hair dye.
Apparently, Tommy was trying to replace Jameson’s shampoo with pink hair dye when Jameson caught him.
I, for one, could have cared less about the hair dye or who got their hair dyed when I returned. I had so many cuts, bruises, splinters, and abrasions that I needed a first aid kit and a few words with Jameson and Tommy.
Tommy ran from Jameson when he kicked him in the shin and realized he shouldn’t have, but instead slipped and smacked the back of his head on a log.
Tommy laid there for a moment before he panicked.
“Oh, God, please tell me I don’t have blood coming out of my ears! Please tell me!” he groaned, pushing his hands through his orange hair and down his face roughly.
“No,” Jameson kicked him in the side, still without shoes on. “You don’t have blood coming from your ears, dumb shit.”
Pushing Jameson aside, I knelt next to Tommy, pretending to check for blood. “Nope, no blood. But you do smell like piss and tequila, and you’re missing your eyebrows.” And then I smacked his forehead. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
“Do what?”
“Threaten a cougar sighting. We take that shit seriously in this family.”
“Oh, please, it was a joke.” Tommy curled into a ball with his log. The sun peeking over the trees revealed his pale face. “If I never see tequila again, it will be too soon.”
Justin laughed, hanging on Ami, his own face just as pale. “He said that last week.”
Still sitting next to Tommy in the dirt, he looked at me, with wide blood shot eyes. “I sometimes think that my pranks will work on Jameson.”
“Fire crotch,” I shook my head, rubbing his back softly. “I sometimes think that I could have been a professional dancer, and then reality sinks in, and I say to myself, that’s a pipe dream.”
He looked concerned. “Are you saying I’ll never get him back?”
“No. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Tommy moaned and fell back into the dirt. “Did they really brand my chest?”
I nodded with a smile. “Yes, that really happened.”
“Are my eyebrows missing?”
“Yes, that really happened, too.”
Before heading back to our tent, I looked at the campsite and cringed at what ten adults were able to do in one evening.
We had no beer left, no hard alcohol, and most of our food was now gone. Not to mention we almost set the picnic table on fire, successfully discovered how to make a bomb with Pepsi and Mentos, made a beer bong with Ami’s breast bump, gave Tommy a tattoo on his chest that said, “I’m your bitch,” with a branding iron Aiden had made, and lost Ryder. Like actually lost him.
It was time for bed.
Jameson, who used the kids as a defense device when I found him in the tent, had nothing to say for himself until I showed him the cuts on my back from the tree.
“I’m sorry?” he offered, playing with Arie’s curls as she slept on his chest.
“Sorry, he says,” I repeated, shaking my head before zipping myself up to my nose in my sleeping bag.
“Daddy, Daddy!”
I groaned, opening my eyes to the blinding light coming in through our tent. I got very little sleep with all the bugs and everything that happened last night. Oh, and when I finally did reach the tent, Arie wormed her way in between us.
I tried numerous times to put her on the other side of Sway, but no, every time she found her way back to me and my sore back.
After about the tenth time of Arie saying, “You awake?” that morning, I opened my eyes to find her staring at me.
“Finally.” Arie sighed. Her big emerald eyes gleamed with brightness. “Get up,” she ordered, pointing her tiny finger at me.
For being nearly three, she was demanding. I blamed Emma and Alley for that.
“Flowers.”
Oh, right. I promised her we’d pick flowers today. How we were going to find flowers here was beyond me. So far, all I’d seen was red clay mud, water, and bugs.
“Daddy!” she yelled, jumping on me. “Up.”
“I’m up, sweetie, I’m up!” I turned over to see Sway was still sleeping. “Just let me make some coffee first. And don’t wake up Mommy. She’s mad at me.”
She seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “One mimmut.”
“You are so adorable,” I grabbed her chubby cheeks in between my hands kissing her nose. “So adorable.”
“No me not,” she said sternly, frowning as she pushed against my chest.
“Oh, yes, you are.” I tickled her ribs as she cackled, continuing until she was screeching loud enough to wake Spencer and Aiden.
I let her up after that so she could catch her breath. For the first time I noticed what she was wearing, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. She obviously dressed herself this morning. The outfit started-off normal enough—a t-shirt and jeans, the jeans were tucked into bright yellow boots. Along with those, she was wearing a pink ballet costume over the shirt and a tiara that was slightly askew from our tickling war, on top of her head.
Chuckling the words out, I muttered, “Ten minutes. Yes, ma’am.”
Even though my little angel couldn’t tell time, I knew by the way she stomped from the tent, she’d be back in less than two minutes.
Sure enough, Arie came stomping back, this time with a life jacket around her and a bucket in hand.
“What’s with the life jacket?” I knelt down to adjust the straps to fit her snugly.
She glanced over her shoulder at the boys having an early morning water fight by the lake.
“Aunnie Amee.”
I saw Ami wave at me. After last night, she must have known the boys got a little crazy at times because she strapped life vests on Arie, Alexis, and Lily for their safety.
Sway woke up from Spencer’s screaming when Aiden threw a snake he found in the lake at him just before Arie and I left to pick flowers.
I heard her grumbling about the bugs and her cuts when she yelped as she unzipped the tent.
“Oh, son of a—”
“Say good morning to Mommy, Arie!” I said loud enough for her to hear.
I did this for two reasons. One, I didn’t have any money on me to hand over to Arie for Sway’s cussing, and two, Arie was like a goddamn sponge. Anything you said, she repeated and at the most inconvenient times.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Sway smiled at Arie who lunged for her and looked at me with a glare and then smiled. Her smile was somewhat concerning, though. It was one that had me wondering what I was missing. “Did you sleep good?”
“Yeah.”
Sway looked over her outfit. “Did Daddy dress you again?”
“No, me.” Arie pointed to herself.
Sway kissed her chubby cheeks.
“You did good. You look beautiful!”
They spoke for a few minutes until it was time for Casten to eat, and he didn’t like to wait.
“C’mon, sweetie, let’s go get Mommy’s present,” Arie popped up from Sway’s arms and followed me. I smiled back at my wife, but she glared.
Being out in the backwoods of Alabama, we didn’t find any flowers—found a few snakes, and quite possibly the largest spider I’d ever seen in my entire life, but no flowers. That depressed my little girl to the point of tears. You could imagine how this made me feel. I didn’t like Sway crying, let alone our adorable little spaz children.
I didn’t deal well with the crying, so in turn, I was now making a s’more at eight in the morning to keep the tears at bay.
On the way back, Arie looked up at me and grinned. “Daddy, why your hair pink?”
I shook my head remembering Sway’s smile. “Oh, because Daddy has assholes for friends.”
“Assholes?”
“Never mind.”
Sway came walking up to the fire seeing me making s’mores. “Sucker.”
“You’re one to talk.” Slowly, I turned the marshmallow to keep from burning. “You went to get coals yesterday and bought half the goddamn store.”
“Whatever.” She sat down beside me with Casten in her lap. “Nice hair.”
“Yeah, I think the color goes nicely with my skin.” I gestured to all the bug bites.
“That it does, sweet cheeks.” She kicked my ass and almost landed me in the fire headfirst.
“Nice,” I said, brushing ashes from my shirt. “I’m not sure I would have saved you.”
“Asshole.”
“Stop it,” I looked over at Arie was now staring at us. “You’re setting a bad example for our kids.” I couldn’t even say it with a straight face. I think all our kids knew we weren’t exactly model parents.
Arie came bouncing over to me with chocolate all over her face. “Where’s my massmello?”
“Marshmallow?”
“Yeah.”
“Here you go, princess.” I handed over the marshmallow and smiled at Sway.
It never failed. We gave into the adorable spaz children, no matter what. But when your kids became part of your pit board, you’d do anything to keep them happy and running just as smoothly as you were.
Sway and I also knew this would backfire someday. Some might even call them spoiled. Spoiled maybe, but not with possessions, with love. That was a bit cheesy I knew, but it was the truth. I strongly believed we couldn’t worry about the future right now. We had to live for each pit stop and discover who they really were within the race. Even if that meant bribing them at times and making s’mores at eight in the morning.